


Contraptions and Birthday Suits

by keenquing



Category: Pushing Daisies
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-11
Updated: 2011-10-11
Packaged: 2017-10-24 12:47:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/263623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keenquing/pseuds/keenquing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"At first glance, it looked a bit like some kind of exercise machine....But then there was the very suggestive piece sticking up at an angle through the seat." Ned gets Chuck a very special birthday present.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Contraptions and Birthday Suits

Normally, Charlotte Charles would have been excited to wake up that morning, 29 years, six hours and fifteen minutes old. Only, Charlotte Charles had died when she was 28 years, 24 weeks, three days, 11 hours and 51 minutes old. Physically, at least, she was never going to get any older. So today was just like any other day.

That didn't mean she wasn't going to enjoy it, though. Because, just like every other day, she was going to be spending it with the Pie Maker. If, she thought, anyone else had brought her back to life, she probably would have preferred to be dead-again. But for the Pie Maker, she was more than happy to go out in public in sunglasses and scarves, to only have glimpses of her aunts, and to sleep curled up next to industrial-grade plastic.

Turning her head, Charlotte Charles noticed that the only reason it felt like someone was holding her was because, in the night, the plastic had molded to the Pie Maker's arms and her body; the Pie Maker was no where to be seen. It was not unusual for him to wake up before her, given that he had to start baking pies early in the morning, and he liked to watch her sleep.

Curious, and hoping that Emerson hadn't had a body for the Pie Maker to talk to, Charlotte Charles delicately extricated herself from the plastic's embrace. Rubbing her arms, she was leaving the bedroom and walking towards the bathroom when she heard the sound of bells, rapidly jingling and growing louder. Smiling, she stepped back and sat at the foot of the bed to wait for the Pie Maker.

Turning the 'open/closed' sign to closed, the Pie Maker—better known to most as Ned—started walking around and making sure all of the blinds were drawn tight. While he walked, he went through the mental list of things he had to do today. He had already gone over to Olive's to drop off Digby and make sure she remembered not to come in to work. He had made sure there were no urgent deliveries to make, that the phone was disconnected and the door locked so that Emerson couldn't get a hold of him.

“All right,” Ned shook out his hands, trying to get them to stop trembling. “Everything's done. Now all I have to do is—oh, no,” he groaned when he glanced up at the clock. 9:45.

After assuring himself that he was wearing his belled slippers, Ned ran upstairs to the apartment he shared with the girl he called Chuck—a girl who never slept past 9:26.

If it hadn't already been racing from the sprint, Ned's heart would have begun doing so when he opened the door and saw Chuck sitting at the foot of the bed. As it was, he was almost worried it was going to burst out of his chest when she smiled at him.

“Well, good morning. What's got you all flustered?” Chuck said, brightly.

Ned held up a hand while he drew in oxygen. “Ran...sorry... wanted to be here...when you woke up.” he gasped.

Chuck tilted her head to the side. “Yeah? Why's that?”

Ned swallowed, breathing deeply so he would be sure to have enough air to get the next sentence out in one go. “So I could wish you a happy birthday.”

Chuck's mouth dropped open a bit and her eyes filled. “Oh, Ned, that's so sweet. But you know it's just like any other day to me, now, right? I hope you didn't go to any trouble.”

Ned leaned down to pick up his mechanical hand and walked over to the bed. Sitting on the other side, he carefully leaned in and placed the hand against Chuck's cheek. “It shouldn't have to be like any other day. _I_ turned it into a day like any other day. You should be turning 29.”

Chuck sighed. “Ned, you di-”

“And it's never trouble, if I'm doing it for you.” he continued, cutting her off before she could make excuses for him, again.

Chuck smiled, putting her hand to her mouth to give him the only kiss she could without having plastic between them. “So, what exactly _did_ you do?”  
Ned caught the kiss and smiled sheepishly. “Well, we're closed for the day and I made sure there's no way Emerson can get a hold of me. So...we'll be all alone, all day.”

Chuck's eyebrows shot up. “Really? Oh, Ned....” she gripped the prosthetic hand that was still resting on her cheek. “Do you have anything special planned—or was I not supposed to ask that because it's a surprise and you can't tell me because then it wouldn't be a surprise anymore?”

Ned laughed, delicately slipping the prosthetic hand from Chuck's grip. “Yes, and...err, well, I suppose I can just show you. It's downstairs.”

Chuck sat back while Ned walked over to his dresser, exchanging the scratcher/petter/stroker for a pair of medical-grade latex gloves, pulling them up over his shirt-cuffs. Then he walked back and held out a hand. When Chuck set her fingers in his, he squeezed and leaned as close as he dared to whisper to her.

“Close your eyes.”

For half a second, Chuck worried about walking down the stairs with her eyes closed. Then she almost laughed and did as Ned had asked. After all, every day she put her life in his hands, trusting him to remember to say 'crossing, coming, stopping', to not trip and fall into her, to fight his instinct to catch her when she fell.

Walking down the stairs was nothing, at least not as long as he was holding her hand.

“All right, last step—stopping.”

Chuck almost pouted when Ned let go of her hand. He had obviously been far more nervous about going down the stairs than she had, and so had been holding on tighter than usual and they had gone far more slowly than either of them would have by themselves.

“Can I open my eyes?” she asked, as she heard Ned's belled feet walking away.

“Ah....” she could almost see Ned blushing, flustered, and she smiled. “Ah, yeah, sure, I suppose now is as good a time as any. Look to your left.”

Chuck opened her eyes, turned her head...and felt her jaw drop. She covered her mouth for a moment, trying not to giggle. Then, she turned her head to where she had heard the sound of Ned's voice, nibbling her lip when she saw him staring at his shoes.

“I-is that what I think it is?” she said, barely keeping her composure.

Ned wasn't doing any better. “Wh------at do you think it is?” he choked out, still looking at his shoes.

Chuck rolled her eyes and, ignoring Ned, walked over to the contraption that was in the middle of the floor. Usually, tables occupied that space, but all of them had been shoved off to the side. Chuck almost asked Ned if he had thought about the size when he had ordered (made?) the thing, but obviously he hadn't. She knew Ned well enough, just the idea of doing something like this must have fried his brain.

At first glance, it looked a bit like some kind of exercise machine—an extremely tall rowing machine, maybe. The same kind of handles that one could pull back and forth, and what looked like stirrups. But then there was the very suggestive piece sticking up at an angle through the seat. As Chuck walked around, she noticed that there were actually two seats—one with the cylindrical attachment, and one, without, right behind it.

And that was when she knew that, even if he had ordered it (which she was beginning to doubt), Ned had at the very least customized it. Because between the two seats was a plastic sheet, much like the one that formed the divider in their bed, with a sleeve-like section draped on either side and a bit draping over the head rest.

Chuck was torn between laughter and tears. Smiling, she turned around and walked over to Ned. Standing as close as she dared, she stooped so she was able to look him in the eye while he kept his head bowed. “That is the sweetest birthday present anyone's ever given me. Thank you.”

Ned raised his eyes a bit, brows furrowed. “How can you know that? You don't even know if it works yet. For all you know, it—”

His jaw worked, silently, up and down as Chuck just grinned.

“ _Now_?” he finally choked out, standing up all the way.

Chuck did the same. “Well, why else did you close the Pie Hole and make sure no one would come in?”

“Because I couldn't figure out how to get it up the stairs by myself and I just finished it last night!” Ned yelped. “I mean, it's not that I don't want to, you _know_ I want to, but—Chuck, it's not even noon!”

Chuck shrugged, beginning to unbutton her flannel night-shirt. “That just means we'll have plenty of time to make sure there aren't any flaws in the design.”

Ned swallowed, and Chuck could see several excuses trying and failing to pass his lips. Undoing the last button, she dropped her shirt to the floor. Ned followed it with his eyes, then looked back at her, defeat and fear and excitement all racing across his face.

“I'll go get the plastic wrap.”

Exactly four minutes and thirty five seconds later, Ned was back with a full roll of food-grade plastic wrap. Two minutes and twenty seconds had been spent inspecting said plastic wrap.

When he walked into the front area of the Pie Hole, Chuck was leaning against the contraption, with a smile and nothing more.

Ned nearly dropped the plastic wrap. Chuck covered her mouth with her hand as he fumbled, as there was no way he would touch her even if he fell. Which he didn't. His hands fumbled with the roll, finally wrangling control of it and he managed to keep his feet from getting too tangled up in themselves.

“Are you all right?” she asked, sweetly, when he stood there panting.

Ned looked up, shaking his head at her, but smiling. “You could have told me you were going to do that. Something about making yourself more comfortable, a quip about putting on your birthday suit, or even just saying you were getting naked. Next time, warning.”

“Next time?”

Ned just blushed and started unwinding the plastic wrap. Over the past few months, they had gotten quite good at making this part almost...well, not erotic, but not-awkward. Although it did take a bit longer than usual (41 seconds longer), as Ned usually didn't do this while wearing rubber gloves, and he normally wasn't quite this nervous.

Once he had a good foot unwound, Ned reached into his pocket and took out the tiny knife he had taken to carrying with him any time he might be around Chuck. He cleanly severed the length of plastic from the roll, but before he could lift it up, Chuck had neatly plucked it out of his hands.

“Chuck, you r—” _really shouldn't do that, shouldn't get so close, shouldn't_ —Ned wasn't quite sure what he had been going to say, because both his brain and his tongue were stilled by Chuck slipping the plastic over his face and then none of it mattered. One would think that having plastic plastered over ones entire face and shoved in ones mouth would be unpleasant. But Ned hardly noticed anymore. All he noticed were Chuck's lips and tongue—warm, firm—and that it was just a little odd not to feel the moisture that should have gone along with them. The same went for when he instinctively tangled his fingers in her hair. Even though he couldn't really feel her hair so much as hear it scraping against the rubber, this was their normal and none of the barriers between them made any difference to how absolutely wonderful all of it was.

Too soon (although his nose begged to differ with him on this), Chuck's mouth pulled away and the plastic was delicately lifted back a bit, so it was still between them but not plastered to Ned's face. She tapped his nose through the barrier. “You've got too many clothes on.”

Ned smiled sheepishly. “Do I? Well, you'll have to let me go so I can do something about that.”

Chuck beamed at him through the plastic, then pulled away. She backed up a few feet, watching. One would have thought that Ned would have become even more nervous with Chuck's eyes on him while he undressed. But this was another part of their normal. Since it was hard to undo each other's buttons while wearing gloves, they settled for watching each other undress. Ned knew, as he carefully undid each button on his black shirt, that Chuck was watching his hands and imagining that they were hers. Just as, every night, he watched as she unhooked her bra and ran her fingers through her hair, imagining they were his.

Despite her very-warm gaze, though, Ned still shivered as he slipped out his slacks. “Oh-oh. When did it get so cold in here?”

Chuck rolled her eyes. “It usually is a lot colder when the ovens aren't going all day. I thought you would have noticed how cold it was, already,” she said, looking down at the two peaked buds on her chest.

Ned followed her gaze, then coughed and lowered his head. “Well, I ah...I....” he trailed off, quickly pulling his shorts off as he kicked off his shoes and slid out of his socks.

Chuck giggled softly, then turned back and walked around to the side of the contraption. “So, who's getting on first?”

She heard Ned swallow and cough. “Ah—it should probably be me. Just to make sure the plastic covers...everything.”

Chuck pressed her lips together to keep from laughing, making an 'mm-hmm!' noise as she stepped back from the contraption. She watched as Ned nervously tip toed around on the side opposite her. Then, as he was about to swing his other leg over the side, he glanced at her.

“Could you, ah—you know.”

Chuck smiled and nodded, turning her back. She heard Ned mumbling to himself, and a yelp or two, probably as the even-colder plastic metal touched his skin. There was the sound of plastic being unstuck from itself and being adjusted. Ned muttered to himself, a bit louder this time but still indecipherable, and then he cleared his throat. “Ah, you can turn around, now.”

Turning, Chuck felt her breath leave her when she saw that any inch of Ned that could possibly come into contact with her body while she sat on the device was covered by plastic. His arms were in the sleeves, his feet slipped into the second pair of stirrups to keep the plastic wrapped around his legs—and the bit that had been hanging over the front seat was now covering his face. As she walked over to take her own spot, Chuck noticed that there was a strap holding the barrier onto his head. She crouched down, tilting her head a bit.

“Are you sure you can breathe.”

Ned nodded. “Yeah.” He demonstrated this by tilting his neck back a bit so there was space between his mouth and the plastic. “The strap's not that tight, just enough that it won't fall of while we're---” he flushed a bit. “Well.”

Chuck beamed. “All right. So, um, how do I—“ she stopped the question before it passed her lips. Any other man might have been more than willing to give her step-by-step instructions, but not Ned. Like everything, with him, she'd have to take the initiative. Not that it bothered Chuck, it was fun to be in control of _something_ in her life every once in awhile. Licking her lips, Chuck took a deep breath and swung her left leg over the side of the front seat.

It took her a moment to get situated on the seat—getting her feet in place, finding a way to sit that wouldn't hurt her back if she stayed that way for very long. Then she timidly took hold of the two handles and started to lift her hips. She paused, though, when she felt Ned's plastic-wrapped arms twine around her waist. She turned to look over her shoulder and then one of his hands was on the back of her head, pulling her mouth to his. Chuck felt a little gasp leave her mouth, and when Ned finally pulled back she smiled, delicately scraping her teeth against the plastic covering his upper lip. Then she turned back, slipping her fingers around the handles again. Ned's hands wrapped around her waist again, holding her as close as the seat and plastic between them would allow, as she raised her hips and then lowered them onto the dildo angled against the edge of the seat.

“Oh!” Chuck yelped as the dildo entered her. It took her a moment to figure out that she could pull back a little bit farther on the handles to push it in deeper. After a few fumbles, she found a comfortable rhythm. Her head dropped back, falling onto Ned's plastic-covered shoulder. She felt him turn and then his mouth was pressed against the side of her throat, placing kisses all along her neck and shoulder, so hot that Chuck could feel his breath burning and the mist forming on the plastic.

At one point, Chuck felt her feet drop from the stirrups onto the floor from the shaking in her legs. Not that it mattered; when she pulled up, Chuck realized that this angle allowed her to take the dildo even deeper. After relaxing her arms, when she pulled up again, she felt Ned's gloved hand gliding along her breast. She almost jerked straight up off the dildo when his fingers found and tweaked her left nipple. She felt and heard Ned laughing against her shoulder.

“That good?”

She nodded weakly, trying to find words but failing as another slight shifting caused the dildo to hit just the right spot. “Mmm...oh...Ned, I....” she tried to tell him that she didn't think she could hold on to the handles anymore, but just like the rest of her body, her mouth had become putty. Instead, when she pulled back again, her entire body spasmed, not quite going over the edge but toeing it, and her hands dropped. Her head dropped back again and she sat there, panting, wanting to grab hold again but unable to make her hands listen.

Luckily for her, Ned had no such problem. Gently, he lifted one hand away from her waist and took hold of the bar. As he pulled back, Chuck felt his other hand slipping lower. She felt him fumbling behind her—probably making sure that none of the plastic was going to slip from his arms—but after a couple awkward tries, he was able to pull back with enough force to create an even, heavy rhythm, and Chuck found that with her entire body free, she could arch into each thrust farther. She heard herself whimpering, heard Ned's heavy breathing in her ear, and when she closed her eyes she could almost imagine that there was no machinery or plastic between them.

That illusion became even more solid when she felt Ned's fingers slip below her waist. Somehow, he managed to slide one, then two of his fingers inside her—Chuck was surprised that she didn't cum right then. She heard noises that she thought were coming from her own lips—keening, breathless whimpers—and felt herself trembling harder with each slow, steady thrust. But she just couldn't get herself over, couldn't take that last step.

And then she felt Ned's thumb pressing down against her clit, moving in time with the dildo inside her. With a few flicks of his wrist, he shoved her straight off the cliff and she was plummeting but it felt so _good_ and—

When her body stopped trembling and she was able to breathe evenly, Chuck realized two things: one, that the dildo was still inside her, thrusting spasmodically; and two, that Ned's hips were trembling in a similar spastic rhythm behind her. Chuck just smiled, closing her eyes and leaning her head back to listen to Ned's heavy breathing and revel in the feel of his hand trembling against her inner thighs.

Eventually, he stilled and Chuck lifted her head as his body slid away and hit the back of the seat. Delicately, she lifted her hips and slipped up off of and away from the dildo. When the seat creaked beneath her, she heard the plastic crinkle and then Ned's arms were crossed over her shoulders.

“So, ah....” he said, and without turning, Chuck could tell he was blushing. “Was it, um...I mean....”

Chuck giggled, turning around to face him and giving him a quick peck on the lips. “It was perfect. Thank you. This really _is_ the best birthday present I've ever gotten.” She moved her lips to his forehead, pressing down firmly on the plastic. “And I don't just mean this _thing_. I mean....” she blinked rapidly, willing herself not to cry. “Being with you, like this. It was everything I could have hoped for.”

When she pulled back, Chuck saw Ned grinning widely. “Really?”

She nodded. “Really.” she punctuated the statement by kissing his cheek.

Ned laughed, kissing her back. “Well then, I ah...I mean, I'm not sure if you want...maybe the novelty's already—”

Chuck rolled her eyes, putting a finger to his lips. “After we clean up and cool down, we need to work on getting it upstairs.”

Ned's eyes widened, and then his smile grew as Chuck stood up and started collecting their clothes. Maybe he should put that pie in the freezer to save for another day.


End file.
